


New Year Playboy

by Scotland_Axel (orphan_account)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Grinding, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 03:48:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13227474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Scotland_Axel
Summary: Steve meets Sam at an Avengers New year's party dressed as a playboy bunny.





	New Year Playboy

**Author's Note:**

> I just wrote this for fun. Idek why

Steve shakes his head, “Wanda, I'm _not_ going to the party, ok? Did Nat put you up to this?”

Wanda shrugs her shoulders in a way that tells Steve all he needs to know. She grabs him before he can leave her floor, her hands squeezing his shoulders pleadingly.

“C'mon, Steve, _please?_ It will be fun, I _promise!”_ She says, smiling at him and pulling him closer to the suit laid out for him, if one could call it that.

He snorts at the thought of actually trying it on. It's like the costume male strippers wear — a sleeveless white dress shirt with white cuffs, a red bowtie, and matching Playboy bunny ears. Steve can't see the fluffy tail but he's sure it's attached to the black leather leggings.

To confirm this Wanda boasts, “I sowed the tail on myself. You're a devil...bunny, see, isn't that fun?”

Steve sighs, “Fun’s not the word I would use.”

“Steve, please. It would mean a lot to me. I know we're your friends but I also know we're not enough. Nat's dates aren't working for you, so maybe you can meet somebody here.”

“Wanda, I don't need a date.”

“No, I know that. You need a partner.” She replies, her voice soft and sad. “I found one in Vis. And you deserve one too.”

Steve grits his teeth and kicks himself internally the moment he gives in. “Fine. I'll go. And I'll try not to sulk the whole time.”

“Yay!” Wanda shouts, wrapping her arms tight around Steve's neck and pulling her to him. Steve laughs in surprise, not use to seeing her so happy.

“Alright, alright, you got what you wanted. When does the party start?” He asks, freeing himself with a smile.

“Nine. Don't be late.”

Steve pauses when she says that, and Wanda gives him a confused look. Right, she doesn't know a thing about any of that. Steve forces a smile and gathers the costume in his arms.

“Thanks for the tail.” He calls out, stepping into the elevator.

Steve sits in his bedroom for the next two hours leading up to the party, trying to rile himself up for it. He reasons it can't be that bad. It's just a party, and Nat promised him there would be no politicians or any guests as smarmy as Tony himself. So there's that.

Nine comes sooner than Steve would like, and he finally pulls himself into the costume. He laughs at his own reflection. It's pretty funny. He really does look like a Playboy bunny, possibly only seconds away from giving someone a lap dance.

Steve straightens the tie and the bunny ears, slides on his dress shoes and goes down to the common floor.

The party's just getting started but the room is packed. Steve suppresses an eye roll and makes his way through the crowd.

His costume is well received at least, sometimes _too_ well received by the looks he gets. But part of Steve is surprised to find he _likes_ it, but just a little bit. He mingles for about thirty minutes, which is good enough for him and warrants a break from it all on the terrace.

Steve sighs and leans his arms against the balcony railing, lending his ear to all the festive hysteria flooding the streets of New York. At least some things never change.

“I like your tail.” A voice says out of the blue, making Steve jump and turn to his left. He didn't even hear anyone come out. The man laughs a little at his reaction but then he smiles an apology, and the revealed gap in his teeth makes Steve's knees go a little weak with the realization this stranger is _cute._

“Didn't mean to scare you, man. I was out here first, I should've said somethin’.”

“It's, uh, it's fine.” Steve stutters, swallowing. He tries to look away but can't, the man's dark skin looks so smooth and soft. He can't help but to imagine caressing it. God, he's in trouble, but it usually takes him longer to find it then this. At least he can't be blamed for it this time — the man's dressed like a princess for God's sake. There's a crown on his head and he's dressed in a short pink gown with white tights.

“I scared Captain America, ha, not many people get to say that.” The man jokes, his smile easy and infectious.

“Yeah, whatever, it won't happen again.” Steve replies, laughing.

“I'm Sam.” And the man sticks out his hand, “Wilson.”

He takes it and almost jumps again at the heat that flares through his body. “Steve Rogers.”

“I'm Princess Peach, by the way. It's from Mario.”

“Yeah, you left out the blonde hair.” Steve teases, smirking.

Sam playfully rolls his eyes, “Got tangled on the drive over.”

“What, you ride in a limo standing in the open skylight?”

“Yes, I did. I was dancing to Beyonce too.”

Steve tries to keep his smirk as he says, “Sounds like something I'd wanna see.”

Sam's head wobbles in surprise before he laughs, “Well then, c'mon Playboy. The show's just getting started.”

He takes Steve's hand again — shooting another wave of heat through his system — and leads him back to the party which is much more lively than when he left it.

Lively enough it's easy for Sam to lead him somewhere in the crowd and have no one be any the wiser.

“Do you know how to dance Playboy or is looking pretty a talent enough on its own?” Sam asks, no menace behind his words.

Steve scoffs, “Did people do away with respecting their elders in this century?”

Sam laughs, “Shut up and answer the question, gramps.”

“Not the kind of dance I think you're talking about.”

“Then just watch me, alright? And match my rhythm.”

Steve nods and Sam starts rocking from foot to foot to the beat, an easy sway he makes look better than it should. It's easy to copy though, so Steve does as directed, rocking with him.

“There ya go.” Sam grins, putting his shoulders into it.

Steve does that too, but he's sure it's not as charming as Sam's.

“Yeah, look at you, you're not half bad.” And then Sam just goes. He puts his hips into the rocking too, changing his rhythm to match the intricacies of the song, some rapper Steve has no name for.

Then Sam's hands are on Steve's hips and he swallows his excitement as Sam's body follows. He pushes their bodies together and Steve has a hard time suppressing his moan. Sam only grins up at him in reply, so he figures it's welcomed.

Sam sways against him for a moment before he says, “It's more fun if _you_ dance too.”

Steve moves tentative hands to Sam's waist and falls into the enticing motion of his body. His breath stutters out of his chest as their crotches move together.

“I-I might get hard!” He blurts out, because if his first life didn't tell him enough, he's a goddamn idiot.

Sam laughs at him but it doesn't sound hurtful. Steve jumps and squeaks when his ass is suddenly pawed at to tug him forward and even harder into Sam's body.

“That's kind of the point, Steve, but I'll believe it when I see it.” Sam whispers, his breath hot against Steve's neck.

After that Steve doesn't hold back. Why should he? He's dancing with a beautiful man he wouldn't have had the balls to _glance_ at 70 years ago and somehow that same man wants him. Probably not as much as Steve wants _him_ , but he'll take what he can get at this point.

Which is turning out to be a lot. Steve's finally worked up enough courage to reach under Sam's dress to palm Sam's ass too, and it's a fucking work of art in his hands, hard and strong and full in all the right ways. Sam's head is resting against his shoulder and his mouth is open to breathe heat into his neck, occasionally kissing or biting at Steve to make him jump and hiss.

Steve tips his head back as the music washes over him and he starts to harden in his pants. There's not as much friction with Sam's dress, but Steve gasps when the man hikes it up so there's nothing but leather and pantyhose between them. And God it's delightful.

Steve groans deep from the back of his throat and thrusts his hips up into Sam's, shaking as their cocks line up.

He blearily opens his eyes and Sam's staring at him. He looks blissed out too, not nearly as wrecked as Steve but at least it's good for him.

“We just met.” Steve breathes, his lips close to Sam's ear.

“I know. But it feels like, I don't know, like I've known you longer.” Sam replies, putting Steve's exact thoughts into words.

“Do you, uh, wanna get outta here?”

“Show me the way, Playboy.”

 

Sam's lips pop off his cock and Steve doesn't groan in protest only because he looks so cute.

Sam crawls up his body to kiss him.

“Happy New Year.” He breathes.


End file.
